


A Nighttime Workout

by Ylevihs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Deep throat, Dry Humping, Fingering, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, kinda sorta muscle worship, kytaka, mitaka is a sweetpea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lieutenant Mitaka goes for a late night work out in the Finalizer's Gym and finds that he's not the only one with that idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nighttime Workout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GenerallyHuxurious (GallifreyanOmnishambles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanOmnishambles/gifts).



> There are four versions of this story and three of them end very darkly. This is not one of them.

Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka hadn’t been sleeping properly. He’d managed brief intervals of what a kind hearted liar would’ve called napping but real rest continued to elude him. Conventional remedies had been yielding no results and so he’d begun trying…less than common cures for insomnia. He’d even tried the bitter and clear hot drink that one of the strange Knights had offered him but it had only served to give him strange dreams during those few times he could rest. They tended to leave him feeling even more exhausted.   
On one particular evening after a few minutes of lying in his bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Mitaka swung his legs over the edge. He hadn’t even bothered undressing himself.

Right. Final resort time. 

If he couldn’t will himself to sleep at least he could force his body into submission. 

He sped walked to the training rooms and stripped himself in silence in the officer’s locker room. The standardized officer’s uniform was exchanged instead for loose, dark trousers and a grey undershirt. Mitaka had never been much for exercising for recreation. The Academy had demanded he be in peak physical condition to graduate top of his class and so Mitaka had obliged. To the best of his ability, in any case. His frame wasn’t designed to hold a bulk of muscle and so he’d gone in for fast and consistent. He couldn’t lift worth a damn but he could keep up a fierce clip for the better part of an hour and keep going at a steady pace for even longer. 

The Order itself had been slightly less demanding on the topic of physical fitness than the Academy and Mitaka knew he’d grown lax since he’d been stationed on the Finalizer. As he opened the door to the gymnasium proper he saw he wasn’t the only one to neglect their Academy routine. 

The place was deserted.

Mitaka strode over to a grav-mill and hesitated as a loud clang echoed through the room. 

Make that mostly deserted then. The Lieutenant stepped back from the machine and cast a cursory gaze around the room. His eyes caught the toe of a boot first, peeking from around a half wall where the free weights were stacked. As he was watching two pale, heavily muscled arms appeared, lifting a barbell high into the air. He stared, realized he was staring, and looked sharply down at the boots. A low grunting noise and then the bar dipped back behind the wall and out of view. It took a little bit to shake himself out of thinking about how the unknown person’s biceps had stood out in sharp relief in the high lighting and. 

Mitaka cleared his throat loudly, just to let whoever it was know that they weren’t alone, and went to turn back when he heard the bar being placed back in its holder. 

“Oh, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Mitaka began, “I was just going to use the,” he stopped short because whoever it was was standing to their feet and whoever it was was Commander Kylo Ren. About half a second late Mitaka realized that his mouth was hanging just open enough to make him look like an idiot. Simultaneously he realized that the Commander was shirtless and sweating and. 

_Unmasked._

Mitaka had had troubling thoughts about the Commander ever since the. Ah. The. He knew very well that the ‘incident’, as he thought of it, had been a ‘kill the messenger’ type of reaction on the Knight’s part. He also knew very well—very well—that it should have been a deterrent for the type of thoughts he entertained about the larger man. He’d been dragged across the floor by an ancient and overwhelming power _by the throat_ and he shouldn’t have wanted. Well. He shouldn’t have wanted what he wanted. It went against marrow-deep instincts meant to keep him alive. 

But he couldn’t stop the admiration that tended to bloom in the center of his chest whenever the Knight brushed a little too closely by as he stalked across the bridge. The little thrums that pulsed in his veins when he thought about how damn easily he’d been lifted. How effortless it had been for the taller man.

Ren represented things that Mitaka knew he could never be, all unyielding power and brutal dedication and stark brilliance. Mitaka had graduated top of his class—had never been one to envy others as he knew he had his own strengths, but. In fact, he wasn’t sure that it was envy that he felt for Ren. Unless the hidden hands that ran the universe decided to make some serious changes Mitaka would never be anything like the Commander. 

No. Envy wasn’t the right word. He didn’t want to be Commander Ren, he wanted to be with Kylo Ren. To know if he could feel the power contained in that body under his fingertips, under his mouth. Wanted to be held up and feel that heavy electrical pulsing against his skin and. 

Mitaka remembered the rumors about Force-users being able to read minds about thirty seconds too late to stop himself from blushing deeply. 

“Good evening, Lieutenant,”

“Good evening, Sir,” He said it casually. Well. He tried to say it casually and was betrayed by the way his eyes darted, lightning quick, to the mirror’s reflection to see Ren stretching the muscles in his shoulder. Mitaka’s voice sounded significantly more terrified than he meant it to and. It must have been that his eyes were playing tricks on him but it seemed like a series of expressions flickered over the Commander’s face before settling back onto a blank one. 

An awkward silence politely shuffled in-between the two men and flung itself over Mitaka’s shoulders. Finally, mercifully, Kylo sat back down on the bench. This removed him from Mitaka’s direct line of sight, something he was both grateful for and mournful of. Mitaka had managed half a turn before Kylo was speaking again and—oh his voice was so. 

So.

“Indulge me, Lieutenant,”

“Of course,” Mitaka failed to clamp his mouth shut before he said it. He suppressed a groan at the knee jerk reaction and hoped beyond hope that the Commander wouldn’t comment on it. “Sir,” he winced. There was a slight pause which Mitaka took to mean that Ren had noticed—of course he would have—before the Commander continued.

“Captain Phasma’s record is 140 kilos, correct?” 

Mitaka had to round the half wall to see if Commander Ren was being serious. 

“Um.” He let the sound hang in the air. Commander Ren was seated on the bench, hunched over, squinting over at the weight rack and then looking back over to the bar. “I believe so, Sir. 145 kilograms or thereabouts...I wasn’t there but if I understand correctly she seemed disappointed in herself,” 

“You think she could do more?”

“She’s got a bit of a competitive streak, Sir. Some of the troopers estimate she could have done upwards of 150,” Mitaka tried not to sound sheepish as he said so and failed. Ren made a thoughtful noise and Mitaka glanced over at the weights he’d been casually working with. Nearly 100. Mitaka’s personal record at the Academy had been 70 and even then he’d been sore for days afterwards.

A very polite voice pointed out that it would be laughably easy for Commander Ren to physically bench press _him_ twice over. Mitaka very politely told that voice to go fuck itself and please never come back and oh, he was staring at Ren’s arms again. Dammit man. After a moment more of Ren staring at the wall of weights he seemed to come a conclusion and reclined back onto the bench. 

Mitaka’s mouth was working before he could stop it. 

“Were you interested in breaking her record, Sir?” and his mind immediately began working out just how quickly he would have to run to make it to the locker room and whether or not Commander Ren could stop him with the Force before he reached the relative safety of the other room. The Knight, however, didn’t seem to be offended by the question.   
“It’s not a goal of mine, Lieutenant,” although he sounded mildly annoyed, Ren reached up to grip at the bar. The way he said it made the sentence sound incomplete and the unspoken end to it was ‘but it would be nice to’. Mitaka did his best to not be obvious that he was staring at the Commander’s bare upper half and cleared his throat again. “Did you have something to add?” Kylo asked suddenly. 

“Well, Sir,” Mitaka felt heat climbing up the back of his neck and focused on suppressing it. Unbidden, his mind began conjuring rather untoward images about the Commander. Shirtless. Glistening. He shook himself mentally, a voice in the back of his head chiding him for even fantasizing about ‘conduct unbecoming of an officer of the First Order’. There was a metallic noise and. Oh. Oh shit, right, Ren was waiting for him to say something. “There have been studies which show a measurable increase in the production of testosterone when weight is applied to a subject’s pelvic region,” the words stumbled out of his mouth and stepped on one another’s toes. In his anxiety Mitaka lapsed into a universally common speaking pattern of ‘I read this in an article somewhere but don’t remember the details really so please don’t ask too many questions’. 

Mitaka watched as Commander Ren made a thoughtful noise, picked up the bar and then slowly and methodically lowered it down towards his chest. And then the Commander grunted low and lifted and the noise sent a thrum through the core of Mitaka’s chest and.

Oh dear. 

“You think I could beat her record by resting free weights on my lap?” Ren’s voice was steady and deep and so damn.

“Not quite like that, Sir,” a nice little knot settled in the bottom of Mitaka’s gut as his brain caught up and remembered the _rest_ of the study. It had been regarded as a joke back in the Academy. The kind that motivated people to nudge each other and wink and somewhat coyly ask if anyone wanted to try it out for themselves. “In the…uh…the study itself, the weights were. Ah. People,” it was incredibly hard to focus on speaking when the Commander seemed set on making those _noises_. Without thinking about it Mitaka’s hands had begun to wring around themselves, twisting his fingers almost painfully. He desperately wanted to stop his mouth and found that he couldn’t. “They had people sit on the laps of the subjects in question and saw a marked…increase…in,” he slowed because Ren had stopped and was staring silently at the ceiling. 

The Commander took in a deep breath and seemed to hold it for a moment before sighing heavily. 

Mitaka swallowed the tightness in his throat but was no longer able to keep the blood from rushing to his face. His mouth made it a third of the way towards excusing himself when Ren cut him off. 

“Well?”

Mitaka froze. “Sir?”

“I assumed because you made the suggestion,” the Knight trailed and, oh goodness, he was motioning to his lap and. Mitaka made a noise he wasn’t exactly proud of. 

“You. You want me to--,” it came as a shock that he could even speak considering his heart was in his throat and actively trying to strangle him to death. 

“It was your idea, Lieutenant,” Ren said abruptly. He sounded. No. Mitaka was definitely imagining _that_. But Ren wasn’t moving; he certainly wasn’t sitting up or walking away or.

“I didn’t think you would want me to,” he tried to avoid stressing ‘me’ and failed in particularly impressive fashion. 

“Is that so?” the Commander was still staring at the ceiling and he still sounded. He. No, Mitaka’s mind briefly tried to convince him that there was no way that Kylo Ren could sound embarrassed about this. The Lieutenant caught a brief glimpse of the Knight’s face and his mind’s argument fell apart. It then began urgently putting forth a plan that mostly involved Mitaka simply coming out and plopping down on the larger man. Mitaka did an involuntary evaluation of that idea. 

Pros to trying to sit on Kylo Ren’s lap:  
1\. Kylo Ren knows I want to sit on his lap. And   
2\. It seems like he might let me. 

Cons to trying to sit on Kylo Ren’s lap:  
1\. Kylo Ren knows I want to sit on his lap. And   
2\. He might use the force to choke me. 

Mitaka desperately wished that being strangled by an ancient unseen power was more of a deterrent than it was turning out to be. He took a step closer to the bench and saw a glimmer of surprise on Ren’s face before it settled. The Knight shifted slightly, bringing his heels closer in so that his thighs formed a more level surface. Before he could stop himself Mitaka walked up to Ren’s side and just as he lifted a leg to bring himself down to straddle the other man’s body the adrenaline hit. He was actually doing this.

 _He_ was actually doing _this_. A giddy feeling swelled inside of Mitaka’s chest and he carefully lowered himself onto Ren’s lower body. The awkward pause barely had a chance to be registered as Ren made minimal adjustments and Mitaka could see his muscles moving beneath him. He sat. Contact was made. The Commander seemed to have exactly zero reaction to the addition of Mitaka’s weight on his lap. 

Mitaka had slightly more of a reaction to touching down on a plane of muscle so firm and unyielding he may as well have been sitting on the bench itself. Except no bench would ever be so warm or pulsing. He focused very firmly on anything other than how the warm muscles shifted and suddenly Mitaka was lifted—not much, barely noticeable if he hadn’t been so focused on anything other than how he was being lifted, oh dear—as Ren lowered the bar to his chest and his lower half reflexively curled upwards to counter the movement. Then he grunted, a sound which had Mitaka’s lungs sucking in a breath before he could stop them, and lifted the bar easily. The Knight did another press, a third and then. Strange and extremely uncomfortable messages were being mainlined to his brain, directly from where Mitaka could feel powerful shifting between his legs and. 

Every alarm bell in Mitaka’s mind went off at once. He’d been so distracted watching the coil and release of the thick cords of muscle that made up Kylo Ren’s chest, arms, abdomen that he hadn’t noticed how Ren’s legs had shifted. Mitaka had slid very slightly forward with the movement. He was thrown off what balance he’d been able to conjure and had to bring his arms out to catch himself from falling completely forwards. Which meant that his hands were firm on the center of Kylo Ren’s abdomen. Which would have been enough to put the Lieutenant into a tailspin if not for the more immediate problem which was that the altered position had caused Mitaka to angle his pelvis. Putting the main point of contact between the two bodies directly on.

Seemingly unbothered by the fact that their crotches were now unquestionably pressing against one another, Commander Ren did another press, hips rising again and oh. Oh. Mitaka felt the noise rising in his throat and failed to shove it down back into his gullet. Ren’s eyes were pinned to the ceiling fiercely as if blinking or looking away would cause the entire thing to cave in. 

“Lieutenant,” the measured moniker in that sinfully deep voice made Mitaka’s chest tighten. He swallowed hard; not entirely anticipating pressure around his wind pipe but wanting to be prepared nonetheless. The Knight did not continue and while Mitaka couldn’t imagine what Ren’s mind was doing, he had a fairly reasonable idea as to what his body was up to. And. Well. If he was going to be throttled to death he may as well make it worth it. 

Mitaka rolled his hips down against the bulge pressing up at the underside of his crotch. Ren immediately lowered the bar to his chest and Mitaka froze. There was a rather tense beat of stillness and then Ren lifted the bar, abdominals crunching in tight, as he very unsubtly bucked his hips into the pressure of Mitaka’s lower body. The skin under Mitaka’s hands was so terribly warm and Mitaka could feel the rumble and pulse of life beneath his palms. 

“Was this planned, Lieutenant Mitaka?” Kylo asked, voice rough.

“You won’t stop if I say yes, will you?” Mitaka countered the gruffness of Ren’s voice by sounding like the human equivalent of a pillow. Then Kylo holstered the bar; his hands remained tight on the metal. Mitaka swallowed audibly in the otherwise silent room. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh. Too far. 

“That depends,” the Knight began and then Mitaka was acutely aware that Ren’s hands were leaving the bar and descending and. “On what,” they placed themselves on Mitaka’s thighs and even through the material of the trousers, Mitaka could feel the heat from Kylo’s palms creeping up. Up his legs until. Hands found his hips and rested there. “You don’t want to stop,” and the movement that followed from Ren’s hips was shallow and questioning. Mitaka finally managed to force himself to meet Ren’s eyes and saw something reflected in them that gave him severe pause. 

He’s nervous. 

Oh sweet merciful stars, _he’s_ nervous? 

The lieutenant forced a breath into his lungs to steady himself. It was oddly comforting to think that Commander Ren was even just a bit out of his element. Then again, Mitaka wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to meet the man whose element was dry humping at obscenely late hours in deserted gyms. There was a sudden chill around his hips and Mitaka realized that Kylo was taking his hands away and letting them hover above the area. It took some effort to keep his own hands from grabbing at the Knight’s to press them back in close. Instead Mitaka chose, the term ‘chose’ being used very loosely as it seemed his arms were moving on their own, to slide his hands up Ren’s torso until they crested the broad shoulders. And then continued farther. Until Mitaka was simply laying flush on top of the other man, thighs still parted widely around Ren’s hips, budding erection meeting the resistance of Ren’s half hard cock. The height difference meant that because their hips were level, their faces were not quite and Mitaka had to tilt his head back to look up at the Knight.

Who seemed very startled by the Lieutenant’s movement. 

Mitaka flushed and cleared his throat and, to his own surprise, didn’t panic.

“Good evening Sir,” and the muffling anxiety seemed to dissipate, at least enough for the Knight to let out a puff of air in a half chuckle. His smile felt unfamiliar and uneasy, but not disingenuine. 

“Good evening Lieutenant,” and warm palms re-descended onto Mitaka, this time the heat seeped in through the fabric covering his ass. Sweat from Ren’s previous physical activity was sticking Mitaka’s shirt between their chests. The Lieutenant did his best to ignore it, opting to look away from the Knight’s face and down. Thin white lines crossed the Commander’s pectorals, slightly encroached by the spider-web bloom of pinkened tissue from the bowcaster scar. Slightly above his chest was the fiercer shine usually only held by melted plastic where the lightsaber had mottled the skin around the wound itself. The multitude of scars had forced Ren’s chest hair to grow in sporadic patches.

Realizing that he was staring, Mitaka dipped his head and pressed an open mouth kiss to the space in between Ren’s pecs. He licked a slow line up as far as he could without breaking contact between their lower halves. His mouth was moved slightly upwards by Kylo inhaling sharply and then exhaling very slowly. The hands on his ass began pressing in, forcing the contact between them to grow even tighter. Mitaka reflexively bucked his hips forward into the pressure and Kylo grunted. 

Mitaka’s hands, bored now that they were simply hanging in the air over the edge of the bench, moved inwards, forcing Mitaka’s elbows up, until his fingers found Ren’s hair. They did not tangle themselves, but rather gently carded through the dark strands until they reached skin and then. Mitaka shifted as best he could while being forced against the other’s pelvis to wriggle upwards. Mitaka tried to find the line between insistent and being too pushy and pressed his fingers against the back of Kylo’s head. After a moment of hesitation, Kylo obediently dipped his chin to his chest, which was just enough for Mitaka to ghost a half kiss over the Knight’s lips. 

There was a wrenching beat of stillness as Mitaka immediately convinced himself that _now_ he’d gone too far. 

Then he was forced upwards by _nothingness_ which nearly made him swallow his tongue if not for Kylo’s delving into his mouth and pinning it down. The hands on his ass curved sharply upwards, clutching his form to the larger man’s. The kiss itself was uncoordinated and sloppy and both men were exhaling heavily through their noses and Mitaka’s fingers really hadn’t been tangled in Ren’s hair but they certainly were now. Ren’s tongue slid from the confines of Mitaka’s mouth and very, very gingerly the Knight nipped at Mitaka’s lower lip. 

Not even bothering to try and stifle the moan, Mitaka rutted his hips forward as best he could from the awkward position but found that he’d lost most of his leverage. Kylo felt it and compensated, thrusting sharply upwards. 

“We should,” Mitaka was cut off by Ren’s mouth and he lost his train of thought briefly. The Knight’s mouth was soft and hot and he’d caught on quick and was biting lightly on Mitaka’s tongue and. The Lieutenant pulled away which was no easy task. “We should move,”

Kylo faltered.

“Why?” he asked abruptly and Mitaka was halfway through realizing that perhaps this was only a hot and heavy petting session and he was getting ahead of himself when Ren corrected. The Knight shook his head. “You’re right,” and those dark eyes of his darted about looking for something that Mitaka couldn’t even begin to imagine. Finally he settled on something and Mitaka felt hands creep under his ass again and.

Oh dear.

Mitaka squeaked—gasped, his mind corrected, gasped at a higher than respectable pitch—as Kylo rose in one fluid motion and lifted Mitaka without so much as a pause. He did hesitate at the noise and his face rather than his mouth seemed to ask if Mitaka was alright. Mitaka missed that expression because he was busy burying his own face into Kylo’s neck and trying to resist ruining the whole of the evening by reaching his end too quickly. 

“Fuck that was hot,” he. Oh goodness. He’d _said_. Out loud. He pulled away from the crook of Kylo’s neck just enough to peek and see a sinister grin spread across Kylo’s face in a way that sent a pulse to Mitaka’s dick. 

“Good to know Lieutenant,” 

It occurred to Mitaka that besides being lifted, he was also being carried. Towards. Oh. One of the training rooms the Knight’s used. As he was being lifted and carried and Ren was smirking at him Mitaka’s mouth occupied itself without consulting the rest of his mind. It trailed the Knight’s jawline up and traced the shell of his ear, dipping in slightly, and then moving on to worry the earlobe. Feeling bizarrely secure in the other man’s hold, Mitaka let one of his hands stop clutching at the Knight’s shoulder and cradle against the opposite cheek from where he was now peppering closed mouth kisses. The edge of his thumb traced the outline of the scar. 

There came the sharp hiss of air as the door slid open and then another as it slid closed and then Mitaka’s back was pinned to the opposite wall with the full force of Kylo Ren’s frame pinning him into stillness. The hold on him was released and Mitaka felt floor beneath his feet and gravity and. With a sudden movement Kylo caught the hand on his cheek and brought it forward to his mouth. He kissed Mitaka’s finger pads once and so softly that it seemed to change the entire atmosphere of the room. Then Kylo’s tongue slipped between his fingers and he drug the wet muscle in and out in a lewd pantomime. Mitaka blushed and grunted out slightly when the Knight’s mouth moved to nibble at his fingertips.

“So,” and Ren left his mouth pressed against the Lieutenant’s fingers. “You like it when I hold you up?”

Mitaka forgot how to breathe for just long enough to motivate Ren to lean in closer and whisper. “It’s a simple question, Mitaka,” his name being whispered by that voice in his ear broke Mitaka from whatever stunned state he’d drifted to. 

“Yes.” He managed, breathless and every inch of his skin on fire. Hands appeared on the hemline of his pants, pulling down without much chance for hesitation. Mitaka did his best to shimmy out of the clothing while still being all but pinned to the wall. He struggled for a moment with his shoes and as he did so became acutely aware that the Knight was simply staring at him. Reflexively one of his hands shot down to cover himself. Kylo let him, but Mitaka caught the slight edge in his eyes when he did. After some internal debate Mitaka managed to force his own hand to leave, allowing the exposure. “Sorry,” he began but Ren stopped him merely by looking away. Actually. Very forcefully looking away. 

“You don’t have to,” and he was no longer pinning Mitaka to the wall and seemed almost for a moment as if he were curling in on himself. Taking a step back. 

“Neither do you, you know,” Mitaka heard his own voice reply. Kylo blinked at him for a few seconds. 

“I…didn’t mean to stare,” 

“I did,” and Mitaka slammed his eyes shut and rocked his head back against the wall in self-flagellation. Dammit mouth. By the time he let his head fall forward and eyes reopen, Ren had stepped back in close. He pecked a kiss against Mitaka’s mouth and the Lieutenant pressed back, glad for the easy feeling of it all. 

“Alright. You’ll have to hold still for what I have in mind,” the Knight said ominously and although Mitaka nodded he was immediately struck by the desire to shudder deeply. Then Ren’s hands, along with _something_ else, lifted Mitaka a fair way off the ground. He resisted the urge to flail only barely and managed to relax into the hold. Still he was lifted higher and then held with the Force onto the wall. It was a feeling like gravity, something that would have been useless to struggle against but without feeling crushing. Ren’s hands had moved to lift his legs and lift them he did until. He rested Mitaka’s legs over his broad shoulders so that his face was framed by the Lieutenant’s thighs. As though Mitaka were sitting squarely on his shoulders only facing the wrong way. 

Mitaka’s brain couldn’t really deny or confirm the messages his eyes were sending it and so it chose to ignore them. It instead told him that he’d probably finally passed out from exhaustion somewhere and was peacefully snoozing with a hard-on because there was no way that his head was only a few inches from the ceiling and a hot HOT HOT. Mouth.   
Mitaka gasped out ragged and his hands found purchase on the crown of Kylo’s head. Hot mouth on his inner thigh licking closer and closer and. The Lieutenant bit down hard on his own lip and still managed to moan loudly into the room. Kylo lapped sloppily at the quivering flesh before him, seemingly unfazed by the weight of the man on his shoulders. Mitaka couldn’t tell if that was because of the Force or his own strength and frankly didn’t want to waste time thinking on the matter. He found he couldn’t move his hips in the slightest and was at the mercy of Ren’s mouth to do as it pleased and apparently what pleased it was moving softly and slowly over every inch of Mitaka’s crotch except for his cock. Mitaka exhaled an expletive and felt the mouth torturing him twitch into a smirk. Ren’s head dipped and a fierce streak of wet heat was drawn from the base of his dick up to the tip. The thick mane of dark hair tickled in a deviously erotic way against the tender skin of Mitaka’s inner thighs. Then the Knight paused, Mitaka couldn’t stop pressing in his heels to Kylo’s back to try to pull him in, and shifted until he could bring his hand to his mouth. 

Without much ceremony he spat onto his fingers and then readjusted himself. As Kylo’s tongue began circling the head of Mitaka dick, a spit-slickened finger began doing the same between Mitaka’s cheeks.

“Oh,” Mitaka moaned weakly and tried to arc inwards but was stopped by the Force pressing him to the wall. Ren moved slowly at first, swirling his tongue and alternating coy licks with sudden engulfing heat as he took the head into his mouth before releasing it again to lap at it. Each time he took Mitaka between his lips he pressed in a bit more firmly with his fingers. Finally, after what had felt like eternity but had most likely only been a minute or two, Kylo fully bobbed his head down the length of Mitaka’s dick. His index finger pressed inside Mitaka at the same moment and the combined sensation sent Mitaka to panting. Kylo’s mouth and finger moved out of sync and Mitaka felt his mouth drying out from hanging open. 

The fingers he’d woven into Kylo’s hair began moving of their own accord, stroking and petting softly, massaging as much of the other’s head as he could reach. Kylo made a noise of approval deep in his chest and Mitaka hummed out as the vibrations hit him. Goodness, that felt amazing. His skin itched and every fiber of his being wanted to be let down from the wall so he could. So he could do something. Anything. The Force pressed in a fraction of a cousin of a degree and Mitaka nearly came undone and nothing in him could even be persuaded to want to be let down. 

Ren’s other hand, impeded only slightly by the swell of Mitaka’s thigh, slid up and pinched at Mitaka’s nipple. The Knight’s fingers, thick and calloused, rolled the flesh between them before tugging just enough to sting in the most wonderful way. 

Mitaka felt the muscles in Kylo’s shoulders tensing and releasing under his thighs as the Commander’s head moved. The finger inside of him twisted until it made contact with.  
“Oh, fuck,” Mitaka hissed, his fingers twitching against Ren’s scalp. Little shocks of pleasure ran up Mitaka’s spine with each movement from the other man. With the Force cementing him in place Mitaka squirmed as much as he could and then Ren took him deep and Mitaka could feel the soft wet heat clenching as the Knight gagged around him. As Kylo pulled back he scraped his teeth just barely over the skin and Mitaka came before he even knew he was close. Mitaka’s orgasm hit him hard and quick, eyes slamming shut and hips frantically trying to buck upwards despite the Force and the pressure of the other man holding him firm. 

Mitaka was allowed about three seconds of giddy, electric pleasure and hazy aftermath until embarrassed horror descended and Mitaka stared at the ceiling. Somewhere below him Ren coughed slightly, more clearing his throat than anything. He felt a pressure slide out of his body and then Kylo was removing his legs from around his shoulders and the Force began ebbing away and. 

“Sir,” Mitaka couldn’t bring himself to look away from the ceiling but he could see it moving farther away and feel himself sliding down the wall. “Commander. I don’t. I mean. I usually,” he felt sick, if only because when there wasn’t a god-like man blowing him or an ancient unseen Force pressing down on every inch of his body he really did usually last longer. “It’s been a while, Sir,” he finished lamely and tried to force himself to look at Ren only to fail. His eyes kept themselves glued shut. His face was on fire. “I,” his hands left Kylo’s hair and instead clutched at the Knight’s shoulders. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Mitaka froze. “Nothing,” his eyes finally found the strength to open themselves. Kylo was looking down at him passively, hair in complete disarray, lips slightly swollen, little streaks of saliva shining on his lips. And he looked slightly hurt and all at once Mitaka realized that what he’d said had the potential to sound _awful_. “That was amazing,” he said earnestly, hoping to undue anything he may have started. He nearly tacked on ‘sir’ at the end and stopped himself in favor of dropping to his knees, tugging Kylo’s pants down as he went. 

“Wait,” Kylo stopped him and pulled him up back onto his feet. Mitaka was fully prepared to apologize _again_ when Ren had him back against the wall and kissed him, hard. “Would you let me fuck you?”

“Yes.” No hesitation this time, and Mitaka could barely muster any embarrassment with the hungry way Ren was looking at him. And then the mouth was back on his only this time the fight had gone out of it and instead the slide of Ren’s tongue was soft and shallow. Now that his hands were free, Mitaka let them roam the expanse of the other man, trailing the edges of muscles and over the slight indents of scar tissue and back up to cradle his face. When the kiss ended Mitaka took his opportunity to plant kisses over as much of the other man’s face as he possibly could. His hands fell, one to begin swirling over a nipple until it hardened into a peak; the other ran, palm flat over the length of Ren’s dick. When Ren shifted slightly Mitaka, undeterred, moved on to sucking a dark hicky into creation just under Kylo’s jaw. Then another then. Ren rutted hard against his hand. 

Then Ren spit thick into his own hand and brought it down, nudging Mitaka’s hand out of the way, to run over his dick. Just as Mitaka began to realize that neither of them were exactly…prepared…for the suggested activity Ren spun him to face the wall and knocked his legs. Together? Oh. Catching on, Mitaka crossed his legs and braced his upper body against the wall properly, feeling Ren slide in between his thighs. Warm palms pressed his hips back and Mitaka obliged without pause, rocking back against the heat and clenching his legs tightly against the intrusion. 

Ren grunted and a much more severe heat covered Mitaka’s back as Ren’s larger form seemed to swallow him from behind. The movement began slowly and Mitaka rocked with him. Aware almost immediately that his height was limiting the range of motion, Mitaka lifted himself onto the balls of his feet. The hands holding his hips tightened their hold and Mitaka knew suddenly that if he wanted to Ren could hold his lower half off the.

And there it was. This time the odd gravity-like sensation held Mitaka’s upper half against the wall while Ren wrapped his arms firmly around him. The balls of his feet left the ground by less than a centimeter, but he was held off the ground nonetheless. Mitaka still had to work to keep his thighs squeezed tightly together, which soon flitted to the back of his mind as the heat of Ren’s panting on the back of his neck made something in his chest shudder. Occasionally, on a particularly hard thrust, Mitaka’s legs would twitch in the effort of not swinging away. 

Compared to the pace Kylo had taken when he’d been using his mouth, this felt more vicious and determined. Mitaka’s hips were slammed back and the voice just in his ear was deep and guttural. After a minute or so of thrusting Mitaka could feel the skin on his inner thighs burning and knew it must have been worse for Ren. 

“Ren, wait,” and although the struggle could be felt in the wall of muscle behind him, after one or two more half thrusts, Ren obliged. 

“What.” And sounded furious. Which was more than a little terrifying. Shaking slightly Mitaka swatted at Ren’s hands and they released him. This time the Force did not gently seep away but rather pulled back abruptly. Before Ren could stop him Mitaka turned and sank onto his knees, his own hands coming to pull Kylo’s hips closer. “I wanted to--,”

“I know what you wanted,” he said, having no idea what Kylo wanted to do. And the spike of tension in the room was palpable. Okay. Better choice of words from now on. Mitaka spat into his palm and began smoothly rubbing along the length of Kylo’s dick. He did his best to pump with the same rhythm Ren had been thrusting with. “Next time. When we can be prepared,” Mitaka waited for Kylo’s face to change into more of an expression of. Hm. Defeat? Acquiescence? 

“You think there will be a next time?”

“There will be if you want to fuck me properly as badly as I want you to,” Mitaka said confidently. Strange what holding another man’s dick in the palm of your hand would do to one’s self esteem. That seemed to be all the convincing that was required. Ren allowed his hips to be pulled forward and Mitaka guided the head of Ren’s cock into his mouth. 

It was. More than a bit larger than what Mitaka was used to and it took his jaw a moment to adjust properly. Ren for his part seemed to be focusing on not thrusting into Mitaka’s mouth although it seemed like it was taking a great deal of effort. Once Mitaka thought he was ready he began to bob his head further along the length and Ren sighed out long and low. Mitaka brought his hands in closer to the base of Kylo’s dick and began pumping along what his mouth wasn’t ready for. After a moment of pulling his hips in time Kylo finally began to thrust shallowly. Mitaka adjusted eagerly and hollowed his cheeks out, sucking hard and drawing a sharper moan from Kylo’s core. 

Old talents began to roll out of bed and started rubbing their eyes, yawning. Mitaka forced himself to loosen his throat and took Kylo even deeper, moving his hand out of the way and nearly fitting the entire length down. His left hand took up a spot on the swell of Kylo’s thigh, the other ran up Kylo’s abdomen, finding and slipping over the dips and rising in the Commander’s abdomen. The sudden motion caught Ren off guard and the Knight staggered slightly back. Mitaka took the opportunity to gasp for air once, twice and then sank back onto Ren’s cock. Bubbles of saliva began popping and snapping along the seams of Mitaka’s lips. Dribbles of liquid ran down his chin. Mitaka shifted on his knees and finally managed to take Kylo to the root. 

He rested there, nose nestled in the slightly sweat-damp curls, letting his throat spasm gently around the thick organ currently choking him. Mitaka wouldn’t have ever considered himself as overly practiced in any sort of intimate regard, but he’d picked up a few skills back in his Academy days. Once he convinced his brain to stop sending distress signals, Mitaka slid his tongue along the underside of Kylo’s cock. Ren’s hands finally appeared, threading into his short hair and tugging slightly. He swallowed hard around the cock and nearly had to jerk away. Mitaka made himself wait until a slightly breathless:

“Fuck,” from above him and then pulled back, stifling the urge to cough and sliding sloppily back down. He did exhale harshly and gracelessly through his nose. Mitaka upped his pace slightly and Ren soon came to match it. It didn’t take too much longer for Kylo’s thrusts to shorten and turn to sharp jabs. Mitaka clutched Kylo close when he suspected the other man might be reaching his end. Kylo let him, curling over Mitaka’s head and gasping through his orgasm. Hot fluid filled hit the back of Mitaka’s throat and he swallowed, still holding Kylo’s dick in his mouth. 

Kylo took a full step back then, but kept his hands on Mitaka’s head. They remained like that for a few seconds, Mitaka down on his knees, Kylo standing in front of him, staring at each other. Then Kylo bent low at the waist and pressed his mouth gently onto Mitaka’s. 

“Next time?”

And Mitaka was smacked in the back of the head by what he’d said and done and his face would’ve melted off if it were any hotter and Kylo was kissing him again and gently urging him to rise onto his feet. Mitaka tried to say something and was cut off by Kylo’s mouth. Then a slick wet line of heat was trailed up to the Lieutenant’s ear.

“In the future, feel free to just ask,” 

“Yes sir,” Mitaka said, voice thick with latent pain and exhaustion. 

“I look forward to it,” and it wasn’t quite a question but it was near enough to one for Mitaka to pick up on it. He watched as Kylo pulled on his clothing. 

“So do I,” Mitaka said breathlessly, the events of the night still catching up with him. The Knight turned only slightly as he went to enter the rest of the open gym.

“Sleep well, Lieutenant,”

**Author's Note:**

> This is also for that nonny who was very kind and patient in waiting for this story to be written. I hope it didn't disappoint too much!


End file.
